Digimon: 3050
by Uncle Remus
Summary: 1000 years after The Nexus of Time, the Digidestined struggle to cope with the aftermath. Part 2 of the Minuteman Saga.
1. Prologue

Many years after the defeat of Reapermon, a group of Digidestined and Tamers, disillusioned with their world, construct a vehicle capable of both interstellar and interdimensional travel. Christining their craft the D.S.S. Explorer, they set out to chart other, less civilized planets. Over the next millenia, with the aid of a warp in the time flow between worlds, they catalog no less than 3,000 such worlds in more than a hundred seperate dimensions, and some places which are bridges between the different universes. Meanwhile, on the planet they once called home, America, beacon of democracy, is Balkanized by internal factions, ruthless invaders, and the rise of powerful gangs. The fall of the US begins a chain reaction that leads to a world in anarchy, composed of squabbling city-states and a few powerful monarchies. The rich, the powerful and the wise leave the troubled Terra to found an empire spanning the far reaches of space. None return to their one-time home, but animosity and confrontations between Terrans and Autocrats, as they call themselves, are frequent in the interplanetary space of the Sol system, for the Terrans do not possese the technical skill to follow their brethren farther into space. In the midst of this chaos, the rulers of one american state discover a secret which could unite the world behind their leadership: they can use bionics, and post-natal genetic modification to turn ordinary men and women into unstoppable fighting machines. Unfortunately, mind control is only being researched across the globe, in the former Chinese state. The majority of the BioGens, as the abominations come to be called, leave their homeland and pledge their services to the highest bidder. BioGen research reaches the black market, but while many people are augmented into lesser such creatures, noone can seem to duplicate the success of the first group. Two of the original BioGens, both aged well over 2 centuries but still in the same physical state as when they were created, join up with one city-state not for money, but for the promise of a new America. A gang known as the Ironfists seek to conquer the american states and restore government by, of, and for the people to the land that was once the champion of democracy. Early in the year 3050, they unintentially join forces with the Digidestined in the ultimate struggle. 


	2. Chapter 1

Remus: Sorry for taking so long to get the first chapter up. Anyway, if I manage to finish this and Shadows and people like them, I've thought about doing other stories which take place within the main storyline. Email me your thoughts.  
  
"Tell me again why we have to test these things?" The 17 members of the DSS Explorer's command crew were preparing to test the ship's escape pods. "Someday we might need them." "I know, but why do we have to test them? Can't someone else do this sort of thing?" "I dunno, I guess it sets a good example." The plan was for everyone to strap in, jettison the escape pod, prevent the rockets from firing, then get picked up by a launch. But the best-laid plans of mice and men often go astray, and the rockets fired. "This is okay, they'll just catch up and then rescue us, right?" "DigiPort, dead-ahead!" "I told you guys we should just stick with cold fusion and not mess around with trans-dimensional power sources, but did you listen? No! I told you that having the ship exist in more than one universe at the same time would create random portals, but did you listen? No!" "Shutup!!" A wave of energy passed over the craft as it rocketed out of dimension 124 and onward toward a troubled world with an unkown future.  
  
"Mark, we've just picked up a high-speed crash in quadrant 3, see to it, over." "Spy plane?" "Unlikely. Energy signatures are consistent with an extra-planetary origin." "I'm on it. Those damned Autocrats keep meddling in our affairs."  
  
The command crew, meanwhile, had landed in what appeared to be a junkyard and were trying to get their bearings. "Where are we?" "Well, judging by the level of technology these people are throwing away, I'd have to say Earth." "Somehow I just knew we'd end up back here." As Mark moved silently between piles of trash he decided that he'd need to have his audio sensors recalibrated. He was sure he'd heard a female voice, or maybe two, but Autocrats were genderless, and grown in laboratories. It'd been centuries since Autocrats and Terrans had been even remotely the same. No matter, he thought as he leaped over a tractor-trailer and leveled his R18 Devastor at the invaders, they'd die like the scum they...weren't. He looked from one to the next, unsure of who they could be. They sure didn't look like Autocrats, although he'd heard rumors...no, these beings were definitely Terrans, but Terrans rarely left their planet, and when they did, everyone tracked them. "You're clearly not allied with me, so unless you'd rather die, you're all prisoners of the City-State of America."   
  
The captives began talking all at once. "You can't do this!" "I thought America was a country." "If our digimon were here, they'd-" "Hold on, digimon?" Mark the Ironfist stopped their chatter when he heard a word he recognized. "Digimon, eh? How'd a bunch of Digitalists manage to get into space and back out undetected?" "What are Digitalists?" "What, did your latest failure give you guys amnesia? You're a cult based in Japan that keeps trying to open a portal to some other world so that you can follow your 'Digital Gods' into space. Weird people." "Who are these Digital Gods?" "According to Digitalists, the Digital Gods were a group of humans who opened a gate to another world - a digital world. The creatures that lived their supposedly called themselves Digimon. The Gods befriended these Digimon and did great deeds with their aid. Then, for reasons that Digitalists don't know, the Gods left Terra to travel to other worlds. Digitalists believe that if they purify themselves and Terra enough, the Digital Gods will return and will bestow wealth and magical powers on all who the Digitalists see fit, then take some of the cult members to join them among the stars. If you ask me it's all a bunch of baloney. I mean, the only people who've ever left Terra are Autocrats, and they certainly haven't found any - hey, what's so funny?" The digidestined were laughing hysterically over this description of them. "You gotta be kidding, people worship us?" "Wait a minute, you don't really expect me to believe that you're the Digital Gods, do you?" "Call us what you will, but we left Earth 1000 years ago, and when we did, it was still called Earth, America was a powerful country, and nobody thought we were gods."   
  
Mark had no proof that they were telling the truth, but he knew how to get it. He walked up to the nearest one and jabbed her with a needle from his finger. He analyzed the blood sample and concluded that at least one of them was born 1060 years ago, give or take a decade, and in another dimension at that. A dimension which didn't exist anymore because it had merged with his during the Great Upheavel. "Well," he said to them, "if your DNA is anything to go by, you guys are who you say you are." "Amazing! Our descendants have created robots that can analyze DNA on the spot! Score one for science." Mark snorted. "Your science must not be as good as ours if it takes a robot to do that." "You-you couldn't possibly be just a cyborg. There's nowhere near enough room inside the human body for that kind of equiptment." "Haven't you ever heard of - no, you wouldn't have." "Heard of what?" Mark sighed, and then he told them the story. 


	3. Chapter 2

UR: I think I should point out that in this story I will often use digidestined to refer to the digidestined and the Tamers. Also, a friend of mine suggested that I post a description of Mark so: Short brown hair, long-sleeve black shirt, windbreaker with the sleeves cut off worn unzipped over the shirt, khakis with grenades hanging from them, big army boots. Sorry about the short chapter.  
  
The digidestined were trying to absorb the history they'd recently been told. "So you were born in 2717? How are you still alive?" "The cause of aging is genetic decay due to the reactiveness of the oxygen you need to live. I don't need oxygen anymore, so I don't age. Now, what's your secret?" "We alter the flow of time. The reactor on our ship creates a powerful energy wake that bends time and space. We can manipulate the wake so that time, but not space, bends around us, effectively removing us from time." The concept disturbed Mark. "There's no way we're both right about aging. One of us is just delaying the inevitable. Hold on, will you; I've got to take this call." The call was not to a cell phone but to his internal communications arrays. He stepped away from the digidestined so they wouldn't hear. "I'm here, what is it?" "What's the status on the crash? Any survivors or salvageable technology?" "I haven't had a chance to look over the ship, but there's a group of survivors. Dimensional wanderers, more than a thousand years old, to judge by their DNA." "Don't tell me you've been converted to Digitalism." "These people aren't gods, though they are clearly who the Digitalists worship. They're also stranded, in need of help, and possessing a level of technology that far surpasses even what the Autocrats have. Give me a week to get them back to their ship, and I'll see to it that we get a fair reward for our aid." "You've got a week on two conditions: First, keep this under wraps. Rumors are already circulating about that crash, and we've shot down 3 aircraft that were trying to reach the site. Those people could help tip the balance of power in our favor, but only if our enemies don't know about them. Second, when that week is up, if they're still on this planet, terminate them." "Sir?" "We can't take the chance that they make contact, intentionally or on accident, with neighboring countries or suspicious citizens. Do you copy?...I repeat: Minuteman, do you copy!?" "I copy, over and out."  
  
When he got back, the digidestined told him they had decided to accept his help, though they clearly didn't trust him. "So, if your ship is in another dimension, how do we contact it?" "We think we can use that escape pod's radio to create a beacon that will transmit to all other worlds, but to be safe, it'll have to work on every frequency." "Not an option. You turn on an omnifrequency transmitter and every city-state on the continent will send their army to investigate." "Okay, then, let's put it into space. Or is that out of the question also?" Mark sighed, "We could put it into space, but I don't know how you could make it worth my while." "Will a hundred pounds of gold boullion make it worth your while?" "Lemme take a look at that ship." 


	4. Chapter 3

A few hours later, Mark had managed to salvage enough equiptment to create a homing beacon. "Okay, I can put this thing into orbit without anyone noticing, but it'll take about a day and you'd better be able to make it worthwhile." "We'll be here when you get back." "Oh no you won't, you'll wait at our airbase, where there's no threat of any neighboring city-states 'liberating' you." "We're safe enough, I mean, nobody else knows we're here, and even if they did, we could just-" He was interrupted by a jet making a low level pass over their heads. "Get down and cover your ears!" Mark shouted as he jumped up onto a pile of electronics and aimed his gun. When the jet came around for a second pass, he fired. Later, all the digidestineds could remember was a piercing, extremely loud noise, followed the sound of a mass of metal being ripped apart, then blackness. When they came to, Mark had already dispatched the surviving passengers, and was rooting through the wreckage. "Problem with being too good at my job," he muttered to himself, "ain't nothin good left when I'm done. Ah, I see you've woken up. We should get moving." As the digidestineds groggily got to their feet, one asked, "What was that thing?" "A troop transport coming to get you and find out what you know." "No no, what is that?" she said, pointing to his gun. "Devastator, fires a concentrated pulse of sound that ripped through that ship like the big one through San Fransisco." Guessing at her intention, he added, "A human couldn't use one. Blow out your eardrums and shatter your firing arm." She shrugged, then followed him out.  
  
When they got to the airbase, Mark was let in without a second glance, but the digidestined were set upon by no less than three guards. "Halt! This a restricted area, unauthorized personell are not allowed in." "Leave off, they're with me," the BioGen grumbled. "Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!" They hurridly caught up to him, hoping his prescence would speed them through any other checkpoints. "Well, this is it" he said, pointing to an x-shaped bunch of steel tubes with various tanks and nozzles strapped to it. "You expect us to believe that thing is going into space with you in it? For starters it's not even pressurized. You leave the atmosphere in that, you'll explode." "Why?" "The oxygen, nitrogen and other gasses in your body-" "That's the reason I can. I don't need oxygen, nitrogen, and other gasses in my body, I can expel those gasses and," he caught himself before he gave away one of his greatest secrets, "and survive other ways." "Even if you could survive, there's no way that rustbucket can get into orbit." "You're familiar with Maglev, right?" "Magnetic Levitation, you use powerful electromagnets to suspend a train a few centimeters above the track. They go real fast, but not fast enough to break free of gravity." "Let's just say that your definition of a powerful electromagnet is different than mine. No, if you'll please head over to that bunker over there and stay put 'till I get back."  
  
While the digidestineds waited for their host to get back, they talked about him, quietly so the guard wouldn't hear. "We don't even know the guy's name." "That can easily be fixed. Hey you" he shouted to one of their guards. "Wadda ya want?" "Who the heck is that guy?" "What guy?" "The guy who brought us here." "The Minuteman." "That's a cool title but doesn't he have a name." The guard shrugged, "Everybody's got a name, but noone knows his. I hear," he said, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, "That he tells folks his real name just before he kills 'em. Musta done somethin real bad if he won't tell anyone who he really is. I figure he had to a done a lotta bad stuff using his real name, and now if he says it, he'd probly get sasinated by the other Biogens." (AN: my grammer is not really that bad, but I figure the guard probably wouldn't use good English.) The digidestined moved away from their guards to talk in private again. "I don't trust him." "You don't trust anybody." "I trust you guys." "That," he paused to yawn, "That ain't saying much." "We should end this discussion, we'll all think clearer after we get some rest." "Fine with me, but there's got to be one of us awake at all times, I don't trust these guys and probably won't in the morning, either." "Okay with me. Joe, Mimi, how about you take first watch." "Hey!" "Aw, it won't be so bad. We'll just go to sleep an hour or so later than everyone else." Sometime during the night, Mark landed after placing the beacon in a high enough orbit that it couldn't be knocked out by ground-base missiles. This was a golden opportunity, and he wasn't going to let a Stinger ruin it. The first thing he did was go to the base's comm center. "Well, have you heard anything interesting." "Only that the general consensus is they don't trust us." Mark snorted, "That's okay, I don't trust them, but a hundred pounds of gold could do a lot of good." "Only if they hold true to their word." The Minuteman nodded, "We'll just see what the morning brings." 


	5. Chapter 4

Mark had them all up at sunrise. "What the heck time is it?" "0630 hours, I figure if the rest of us have to get up early, so do you. Hold on," he touched his ear and listened intently to something for a few seconds, "We're wanted in the Comm tower, follow me." A few minutes later: "Whadda we got?" "Some sort of reply to that emergency beacon, but it's encrypted like I've never seen before." "Out of the way!" Izzy pushed through to a computer and looked around. "You guys still use floppies?" he asked, pulling one out of a pocket." "Floppies?" "Guess I'll have to copy the program by hand. You guys might want to get something to eat," he said as he started typing line after line of code, "this could take a while." It took longer than they thought it would, but Izzy explained that about half of the programming was "enough layers of security that you folks," and he indicated the Comm officer and Mark, "won't be deciphering anything unless I want you to." "So long as you're sure there ain't nobody else can decipher it." "Trust me, I've been doing this stuff for hundreds of years. Anyhow, the message from the Explorer basically asks if we're okay and where we can safely be picked up. What coordinates would work?" Mark walked over to the computer and punched up a map of the Sol system. "Easiest would be for them to come into orbit and send down a team to get you, but then the whole world would start shootin at you and us. Gold don't mean nuttin if you're dead. No, we gotta do this real quiet like. Safest 'd be to get out past the Oort Cloud, but only 'crats got that tech." "Huh?" "The only humans other'n you who ever left founded the Autocratic Human Empire. These days they're known as Autocrats, but you don't see much of 'em around this system. Anyways, I can getcha past the asteroid belt, but after that you're on your own." "That's a lot of possible coordinates." "Tell ya what, we'll go off perpendicular to the planetary alignment." "That's still two completely opposite areas. Which one should we send a shuttle to?" "Both." "Huh?" "How'm I supposed to figure out which way we're going once we get going? Send 'em ta both." Izzy shrugged, then punched in 2 series of numbers, "If all goes well, there will be a shuttle at each rendezvous point in 24 hours. So where's the ship we're going to be taking, I want to look it over before we launch." "Weeeeell, there's a slight problem with that."  
  
"So you guys don't actually own a spaceship?" "Nope. But a neighboring country's got one holed up in a fort about 5 klicks from the border. They've been trying to get it working for the past half-century, but there's some parts they need that they don't have." "And you think you can buy it from them and have it past the asteroid belt in one day?!?" "First off, even if they were willing to sell it, I have no intention of buying it. Second, we do have the parts they need, and third, I can make anything mechanical work." "Isn't there some peaceful way of getting that ship?" one of the digidestined asked. "Yeah, we could surrender and start working for them, and then maybe in a hundred years or so they'll trust us enough to let us look at it! We're already at war with them, so the only option is to storm the fort and get the ship running before reinforcements arrive. Now if you'll come with me, I've used every bit of influence I have to get permission to give you folks firearms." "You may be at war, but we're not." "You'll be with me, so they'll be at war with you. The question is not whether you'll get shot at, but whether you shoot back. If one or two of you guys bite it 'cause you go in unarmed, I'm still gettin my money."  
  
In the end, 6 of the digidestineds agreed to carry weapons. 5 took whatever the Minuteman handed them, and were visibly ill at ease with the prospect of shooting at fellow humans. As for the sixth: "Hey, what about me?" asked one woman when she noticed that Mark had only given guns to guys. "Here" he said, throwing her a laser pistol. "Here" she echoed, dismissively tossing the weapon to her husband. As she pushed Mark aside and started looking through gun racks, some of the Digidestined looked to Takato for an explanation, who only sighed, knowing all too well how his wife could be about guns. "Any particular reason that gun wasn't acceptable?" Mark asked, intercepting her before she got to some highly guarded secret weaponry. "I already got a sidearm" she said, pulling an officers pistol from a leg holster that Mark hadn't noticed before. "Then what *do* you want?" he asked, his patience growing thin. "A recent model Avtomav Klashnikov (hope I spelled that right) would do if you happen to have one." He went right to where the Ironfists kept Russian models, took an AK-73 assault rifle, and handed it to her. Her quick inspection of the weapon showed a skill with firearms that impressed even the veteran Biogen. She adjusted the shoulder strap so that she could manage the gun with one hand, then held out the other for ammo. He gave her 5 fifty-round magazines, and she loaded one, then stuffed the rest into various pockets. As she walked back over to the rest of the digidestined, their was a look in her eyes that Takato hadn't seen in over a thousand years, and had hoped to never see again. "Rika, this is a side of you I've never seen before," one of the Digidestined managed to say. Most of them were somewhat disturbed by the recent change in her personality, but the Tamers were too jaded to even notice. "Aw that's nothin, you should've seen her when she was in special forces," Kazu replied, knowing full well that he put his health in danger by mentioning Rika's past. "If you people are ready, I have a spaceship to steal, and you need to be on it." 


	6. Chapter 5

Remus: I'm sorry about the time between updates, but I have finally managed to overcome writer's block. Also, since both Tenya and my little brother (and some folks who reviewed Nexus) requested it, I will change the format of my stories so they are easier to read (but longer). Anyway...  
  
Mark led the digidestined through back alleys, tunnels and abandoned buildings. At first they were clumped behind the Biogen who was their only hope for survival, but as they began talking amongst themselves in small groups, they began to spread out and soon formed a rather long train. The farthest back were easily 100 feet behind the Minuteman, but as long as they could either see the people in front of them, or Mark, they were content to walk slowly and discuss the worst that could happen. They'd faced death many times before, but always with their digimon to back them up. Now their only hopes were a man they didn't trust and a few handguns.  
  
"Tai, are you actually going to shoot that thing?"  
  
"I don't plan on it."  
  
"Then why did you take one? Your crest is Courage, not suicide."  
  
"I-I dunno, I guess 'cause I have to protect you."  
  
"How are you going to do that without shooting people? By drawing their fire? Tai, maybe you think that it would be better for you to die than me, but I..I'm not going to be alone, okay Tai? I won't let you leave me!"  
  
Sora had given up on trying not to cry, and tears now streamed down her face at the thought of losing her beloved. Tai threw the gun into a nearby trashcan and hugged her, wispering that they would be okay, in an attempt to reassure them both.  
  
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"I'd thought we wouldn't have to go through this again."  
  
"What was I supposed to do, Takato, not accept a gun? You know me."  
  
"Yes, and I know all too well how you can get when you start shooting."  
  
"When was the last time I lost control?"  
  
"About a thousand years ago, and it was also the last time you fired a gun."  
  
"Are you saying I've lost my skill, because I haven't."  
  
"I'm saying," he sighed, trying to find words that would get through to her, "don't overdo it, okay? Please try to use defensive fire, and let them surrender if they want to."  
  
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"Are you sure we'll be okay?"  
  
"Don't worry Jeri, I'll protect you."  
  
"Aww, how sweet."  
  
To the casual observer it might have appeared that there was something going on between the two tamers, but their friends knew better. Even still, a lot had changed since the Tamer's first adventure in the digiworld. Some things, however, remained exactly the same.  
  
"Yeah, he'll protect all of us."  
  
Ryo sighed. The Great Upheaval and its aftermath had allowed him to leave almost all of his fans behind. Almost. Kazu and Kenta's childish idolization almost made the time he got to spend with old friends like Ken not worth it. (A/N: I believe the Ryo that Ken saved from one of Milleniumon's dark spores is the same Ryo from Tamers, and if anyone wants, I can post the address of a site with proof that they're the same person) Ryo glanced over at Henry, who tried his best to look sympathetic. It was hard, though, considering how funny the whole thing was.  
  
***********************************************  
  
Izzy, Yolie, and Ken, talking about computers to keep their minds off more grim topics, were passed by two people who seemed amazingly comfortable with the whole situation. They strolled past, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, smiling as though they hadn't a care in the world. The three-person conversation quickly changed from computers to their friends' attitude towards possible death. "I asked Joe about it myself a few years ago. He said that Mimi's attitude is that live or die, they're destined to be together, so why worry."  
  
"That's enough to reassure Joe?"  
  
"Apparently."  
  
"You gotta admire it, though. It takes a lot of guts to be that fatalistic."  
  
"So anyway, do you think Windows will ever be as good as Mac?"  
  
"Never happen, not in a million years."  
  
Meanwhile, the people they'd been talking about had walked fast enough to catch up with Mark. Joe was horrified to find the Minuteman smoking a cigar.  
  
"Cuba, gotta love it."  
  
"Smoking's bad for you."  
  
"You ever seen an old war movie? The guys in old war movies are always smoking cigars."  
  
"You'll ruin your lungs."  
  
The Minuteman snorted tobacco smoke out his nose. "I'd have to have lungs for that," he said, tossing away the stub.  
  
He walked a few more steps, then halted, holding up his hand to indicate that those with him were to stop.  
  
"We're getting pretty close; we should wait for the others."  
  
When all the digidestined were assembled behind him, Mark gave them all earplugs.  
  
"What do we need these for?"  
  
"The last time I fired my weapon, you were yards away and it knocked you out. You'll be a lot closer this time, and I can't have you guys fainting on me."  
  
When the enemy fortress came into view, he indicated a clump of rocks the digidestined should hide behind. "What are you doing?!?" one of them asked as he calmly walked out into the open.  
  
"Halt, who goes there?"  
  
Mark looked up at the guard who had challenged him. The fort would be a problem. It was a fourty-foot tall wall of scrap steel and concrete built on a low hill. Guns were sticking out of numerous holes, and all were pointed at him.  
  
"I am the Minuteman, and you have in there something I want. I will give you this one chance to surrender, and then I will blow you all to hell."  
  
A single shot rang out from atop the walls, like the crack of a whip. It was answered by a thunderclap from the rocks behind the Minuteman.  
  
As the sniper's headless body plunged from the parapets, Mark pulled the flattened slug off his forehead. "I guess," he said, crushing the metal between his fingers and drawing his gun, "That's a no." 


End file.
